


Windswept Sand

by fallsouthwinter



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith, Returning Home, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9433388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallsouthwinter/pseuds/fallsouthwinter
Summary: Baze has been gone a long time and finally comes home to Jedha.





	

Baze made his way through the streets, familiar sounds, sights, familiar crunch of red sand beneath his feet, familiar chill in the air. At the same time, it felt strange. People were quieter, watched you longer, more of them lingered in the street, tired, angry, sad. The change felt harsher, having been gone so long from the center of his universe. Now the war was over, the Jedi gone, buried, crushed, the Order dismantled and swept away.

He'd been to the Temple, walked through the empty, echoing halls before retreating. Baze didn't know why he bothered, his faith in the Force had all but vanished. People could call it a crisis of faith, whatever they wished, but his time out in the galaxy made it difficult. Difficult to believe in the will of something he couldn't touch, feel, or even understand anymore. It hadn't protected the Jedi, it hadn't protected the Temple, it hadn't protected the millions that died in the war, hadn't protected-

Still, he sat outside on the cold, dusty steps, sitting in the mid-morning light, NaJedha taking up half the sky as the world turned over endlessly. Sat and thought about what to do next, what he already knew he was going to do, trying to even out his breathing. Blow on his hands, make himself get up, move. Baze remembered the place, knew exactly where to go.

 _"You have family here?"_  
  
_"Yes. I visit them whenever I can."_  
  
_"I thought attachments were forbidden."_  
  
_"For Jedi. We're not Jedi."_  
  
Through the streets, where he had been led many times before.  
  
_"Here, here! I want you to meet them!"_  
  
_"You still haven't told me why."_  
  
_"You still don't know?"_

The house looked like the others, familiar, a bit more broken, run down, lived in. Baze found himself stopping dead on the opposite side of the street, staring at the walls of sandstone and durasteel. The thought gripped him, snaking through his thoughts and memories, keeping him motionless, making him consider turning around and leaving.

_What if..._

A moment later a woman came out, someone who Baze recognized, one of the aunts. She gave Baze an odd look, turned, and went back into the house. He could hear some shouting, could distinctly hear his name, making his hands and chest tighten. The woman came back out and continued on whatever errand she had, acknowledging Baze with a proper greeting this time, which Baze returned stiffly, strangely.

_What if he turns you away?_

Then Chirrut appeared in the doorway, still wearing his Guardian robes (of course, of course), surprising Baze with how completely unprepared for it he was. His heart hammering in his chest, throat tightening painfully, eyes stinging. Chirrut was _here_.

Chirrut had a hand pressed against the door frame, his staff clutched tightly, painfully in the other, and he called out. "Baze?"

Baze had never heard Chirrut sound so uncertain (no, that wasn't true, the night he left all those years ago, leaving the Temple, leaving Chirrut) and his breath caught and his eyes burned from the glare of the sun, from the sand, from Chirrut calling him.

"I'm here," Baze replied, and his voice almost didn't break.

There was a pause, filled with windswept sand and sunlight, then Chirrut was moving, leaving the doorway and walking across the sand, slow at first, then faster, dropping his staff midway. Baze wanted to meet him halfway but his feet were stuck, mired in the sand. When Chirrut was close enough to touch Baze reached out, clasping Chirrut's arms and pulling, but Chirrut wasn't having it. Instead, he used Baze's arms as guides for his hands, familiar, searching, feeling the rough fabric of Baze's flight suit, the width of his shoulders, stepping closer trailing up until he was stroking fingers over Baze's face. Chirrut paused when he came across tracks of tears that had started to fall. Cupping Baze's face with one hand, brushing tears away with his thumb, he leaned up and brushed his nose against Baze's cheek before kissing the other tears away.

Something in Baze broke, and he turned his head, kissing Chirrut fully on the mouth, breathing deep, holding Chirrut to him. When it became too much they broke apart, though not far, their foreheads still touching. Chirrut brushed back the curtain of Baze's hair gently and Baze caught his hand, pressing it against his cheek.

"The Force has brought you back to me," Chirrut said, and Baze smiled.

"I came back myself, you fool."

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to say a huge thank you to all of my pocket friends for their help and encouragement


End file.
